Lost in Translation
by LuxKen27
Summary: A small collection of fic exploring the ever-evolving relationship between Maxie Jones and Dr. Matt Hunter: the happy moments, the sad moments, the sarcastic moments.
1. Lost and Insecure

Title: Lost and Insecure

Author: LuxKen27

Universe: Canon

Genre: Introspection

Rating: T

Word Count: 1,768

Summary: During Robin's intervention for post-partum depression, Matt learns an intriguing piece of Maxie's past – one that brings them closer together, even as it drives them further apart.

_Author's Note:_ Further notes about this piece can be found on my LiveJournal, which is linked in my profile.

**DISCLAIMER: **The _General Hospital_ concept, storyline, and characters are © 2009 Jill Farren Phelps/Robert Guza, Jr./ABC/SoapNet. No money is being made from the creation of this material. No copyright infringement is intended.

.xxxxx.

**I. April 2009**

The atmosphere in the room is thick and heavy. Tension, apprehension, trepidation weigh down on them like albatrosses. No one _wants_ to be there, milling around nervously, directing gazes to the floor, least of all him. He's barely even a part of this family, the proverbial – and literal – long-lost brother. He wouldn't exactly call himself a friend, either, considering he'd fought – or flirted – with every single soul in the room at some point.

But this is different.

He's here because of Patrick.

His brother.

His last chance to have a family.

Matt glances over at him, studying him from the corner of his eye. Patrick stands next to the door, gazing out the window, wringing his hands together as he waits for his wife to return home. He's never seen his brother like this – Patrick's legendary charm and confidence usually bordered on arrogance, not insecurity. Some part of him wants to go over and say something – _do_ something – but he's rooted in place, feeling rather awkward and insecure himself.

_I don't belong here_, he thinks, shifting his eyes over the sea of other faces in the room, extended family and friends filling and blurring his vision. Before he can escape, however, Robin returns, and the anticipation in the air ramps up to eleven. His stomach twists as he looks at her, this woman who tamed his brother – only this is not that same woman. Her eyes are haunted, her lips twisted in an angry sneer as she stares balefully at the lot of them. Immediately, it's obvious her defenses are up, and that this will not be easy.

He recognizes the cast of her expression, sarcastic and furious and so, _so_ afraid. He's been there – in some ways, he still _is_ there.

_This is a bad idea_, he thinks, but the words stick in his throat. He understands the others' frustration with Robin's recent behavior. Even though he doesn't know her as well as her friends or her family, he's concerned. This is his brother's wife, the mother of his only niece, a fellow doctor at General Hospital, and she's spiraling out of control. He was the first to notice it, diagnose it, and confront her with it – and considering how well _that_ particular incident went? He has no great hopes now.

"Maxie," the interventionist says calmly, "would you like to go first?"

She's sitting in front of him, on the couch with her father and one of the nurses from the hospital. His heart begins to beat a little faster as she shrugs, pushing a lock of blond hair behind her ear as she struggles to find the words to speak. He'd never admit it to anyone, but _she's_ the other reason he's here now. Robin's cousin is a bundle of intriguing contradictions, and he never misses an opportunity to interact with her.

"I admire you a lot, Robin," Maxie begins. "I have since I was little. But lately, I don't – really feel like I _know_ you at all." She twists her hands in her lap, her shoulders tugging down in a deep shrug as her cousin eyes her mercilessly. "You don't ever want to talk about Emma…or taking her shopping, or dress her up."

Robin snorts and rolls her eyes, evidently unimpressed with the comparison between her infant daughter and a doll. Matt furrows his brow. _Fashion is Maxie's life, she's made no secret of that_, he thinks.

"And I know this is in the past," Maxie continues, "but I still don't completely understand, when Emma was sick, why you insisted that _I_ take her to Mercy Hospital with Johnny. I was _really_ scared, and those doctors? Were asking me to make _huge_ decisions, and I – I didn't _know_ what to _do_. I mean, I am _not _her mother."

"Yeah, but if you remember, Patrick was in a burning building that _I_ was helping evacuate at the time," Robin replies crisply.

Matt winces, heat flooding the back of his head as the memory of General Hospital's fire is brought to the fore. _He_ had been the one responsible for unleashing the virus that knocked out his operating room staff, and for putting all their lives in danger when the room exploded in a burst of heat and flame.

His eyes slide to his brother. Patrick had almost died trying to help evacuate the unconscious hospital staff, and if he had…?

Maxie speaks again, shaking her head in disbelief. "I don't understand how that is more important than your child, who was _really sick_," she contends.

"Maxie, you have _no idea_ what you're talking about," Robin shoots back dismissively. "I can't believe you're sitting here, in _my_ living room, calling _me_ out on my mistakes as a mother."

Maxie is unusually patient; Matt can tell she's trying very hard to keep her temper. "Robin, I'm – just trying to tell you I don't understand – " she starts, only to have Robin cut her off.

"I mean, I have _always_ stuck up for you, even when you do the craziest things," she says, speaking over her cousin even as she addresses her. "So for you to sit here and tell me what a _horrible mother_ I am? Is just ridiculous!"

Mac speaks up in his daughter's defense. "Come on, Robin," he argues, "Maxie adores you."

"Maxie adores _Maxie_," she swiftly corrects him. "And obviously we all agree that I'm a _terrible_ mother, but _I'm_ not the one that was walking around with a pillow under my shirt, pretending that it was a baby for months, and then pretending to have a miscarriage."

Matt's eyebrows shoot up at this revelation. Maxie crosses her arms over her chest and looks away, the blood draining from her cheeks.

"I mean – Elizabeth, how can you even be in the same room with her," Robin asks incredulously, directing her words to the nurse on the other side of Mac, "when she was giving _your_ husband pills for _months_?"

Now Elizabeth looks perturbed. "That's between me – " she murmurs, only to be drowned out as Robin barrels on.

"That was the only way she could get Lucky to sleep with her to begin with," she snarls.

"Okay, Robin," Patrick intercedes, his voice deadly calm, "that's enough."

Matt feels his head spinning as the conversation proceeds down uglier and uglier avenues. The tension in the room is so tight that a pin dropping would shatter them all.

"This isn't a forum for you to go after Maxie," the interventionist says, smoothly backing his brother's words.

Maxie's shoulders are shaking now, and Matt peers around her, trying to catch a glimpse of her expression. She's obviously upset, but trying valiantly to hide it, though her pain at being reminded of her past mistakes is plain as she faces her cousin.

"It's not?" Robin replies sarcastically. "So I just have to sit here and listen to _everyone_ attack me, but I don't get to fight back? Is that the way it's supposed to work?" Her eyes roam the room, landing on her husband, her uncle, her friend Elizabeth, the interventionist. "Well, sorry, but I don't think that's very fair."

She turns to Maxie. "Get out," she states coldly. "I don't want you here."

Maxie is already gathering her things as she fights to keep her emotions in check. "This is not _you_, Robin," she says, standing up. "You would _not_ say those things to me. I think – you need help."

With that, she turns, making a beeline for the door, and her exit shatters some of the tension in the room. Instinctively, he follows her, slipping away quietly as he hears Mac say, "What you said was uncalled for," directing his strained sentiments at his niece.

"Maxie!" Matt calls, rushing after her into the cold night air.

Mercifully, she turns to face him, her phone to her ear, and he is startled to see tears streaming down her cheeks. "What do _you_ want?" she replies darkly, bracing her arms over her chest.

Her words – and her expression – bring him up short. "Are – you okay?" he asks, halting abruptly a few steps away.

"Oh, yes, Matt, just peachy keen!" she spits out. "I love having my past thrown back in my face on a semi-regular and always public basis." She pulls the phone away, glances at its screen, and closes it, stuffing it back in her purse. As she glances back at him, a small, grim smile curves her mouth.

"Yes, it's true, I'm a horrible person," she assures him, gauging the surprise he is too slow to hide, upon learning Robin's accusations are true. "Is that why you're out here? Tell me, Matt, does this change your opinion of me?"

He stares at her, his gaze assessing. It's obvious to him that the episode with Lucky is something that still troubles her greatly, something that brings her great pain, and possibly even remorse. She's slipped back into her comfort zone, though, protecting herself with her rapid-fire words and snippy, self-deprecating insults. She's always the first to admit she's selfish and callous, but he sees straight through it. It's a defense mechanism: if she can make all the potshots before others, she takes away their power to hurt her.

It impresses him, and intrigues him. He wonders what she really thinks of herself – and him, for that matter. She's never had a nice thing to say to him or about him…does the same principle apply? Sometimes she smiles when she fights with him; sometimes her eyes sparkle, like she's trying not to laugh. The attraction between them is magnetic – that much he _knows_ she can't deny.

"Not in the way you might think," he finally answers, his words methodical, thoughtful.

"You're disgusting," she snorts, turning away from him once more, reaching for her phone. "Then again, maybe the only way you can get laid is by slumming it."

He allows the insult to fly past as she begins to walk away. "Wait!" he urges. "Where are you going?"

She glances at him over her shoulder. "I'm calling Spinelli to come pick me up," she informs him. "He's the only person who's ever been able to see the good in me, and that's what I need right now." Her eyes rove down the length of him and back. "Not someone who wants me because he thinks I'm easy."

_Don't be so sure of that_, he contends silently, watching her hurry down the sidewalk, to the corner of the street. _I want you, Maxie Jones, of that you can be sure – but I know damn well you're the opposite of easy._


	2. Dueling Babysitters

Title: Dueling Baby-sitters

Author: LuxKen27

Universe: Canon

Genre: Comedy, Friendship

Rating: T

Word Count: 1,556

Summary: When Matt and Maxie are both asked to baby-sit for little Emma, it becomes a fight to the finish to see who will ultimately keep the job.

_Author's Note:_ Further notes about this piece can be found on my LiveJournal, which is linked in my profile.

**DISCLAIMER: **The _General Hospital_ concept, storyline, and characters are © 2009 Jill Farren Phelps/Robert Guza, Jr./ABC/SoapNet. No money is being made from the creation of this material. No copyright infringement is intended.

.xxxxx.

**II. December 2009**

Matt presses the bell at his brother's house and takes a step back on the snow-covered stoop, gazing at the door expectantly. He can hear the faint stirrings of the family within, rushing about to get ready, and a wry smile pulls at the corners of his lips. This isn't exactly how he'd expected to spend his Friday night this week, but he couldn't complain. He loves spending time with his niece.

The door is pulled open with a rush of air. "Hi!" Robin greets him. Her expression is pleasant, if slightly confused. "Come on in! I'll get Patrick for you."

Matt lifts a brow as he crosses the threshold, but doesn't have a chance to reply before Robin is off again, disappearing into the back bedroom, calling for her husband to come to the door. _What, does he have to vet me as a baby-sitter or something?_ he wonders, shaking his head. He pulls off his hat and scarf, hanging them together with his coat. _He's the one who_ asked, _after all._

"I'm sorry," comes the breathless apology from his sister-in-law, who's just stepped back into the family room.

Matt turns, sending an appreciative glance over her. Robin looks absolutely gorgeous, decked out in a slim black dress and dripping in diamonds.

"Patrick needs more time in front of the mirror than I do, apparently," she adds, rolling her eyes. "So, what's up?"

"You tell me," he replies with a grin, walking towards her and reaching for her hands. "You look amazing! I hope he's taking you somewhere expensive – you deserve it, after putting up with him for an entire year of wedded bliss."

"Hey," booms another voice, "I heard that!" Patrick walks into the room, still fiddling with his tie, and presses a kiss to Robin's temple. "Don't think I have to _bribe_ this woman to be with me."

Robin smiles, wrapping her arms around her husband's waist, and for a moment, Matt sees their picture-perfect happiness on full display. "I wouldn't dream of it," he murmurs. It's still hard for him to believe his playboy brother has settled so easily into wedded life, but he won't begrudge him the pleasure, even if he doesn't quite understand it himself.

"So what are you doing here?" Robin asks, glancing back at Matt.

"Oh, didn't I tell you?" Patrick interrupts, drawing his wife's gaze. "I asked Matt to come over and baby-sit for Emma tonight."

Robin frowns. "You did?"

Patrick furrows his brow, obviously not expecting her dead-panned answer. "Yeah," he replies, pulling away slightly. "Is that a problem for you?"

Matt tenses as he watches the exchange. Its times like these that he still feels like an outsider, even though he's been in Port Charles for nearly a year. He's always gotten along with his sister-in-law (Patrick, not so much), but knows Robin can be very protective of her daughter. He'd been surprised when Patrick had asked him to baby-sit, and had only assumed that he'd cleared it with his wife first.

Obviously, this isn't the case.

"Well, no," Robin begins, but before she can continue, there's a knock on the door.

"Evening, family," Maxie announces, sweeping into the room before she's granted entrance. "Where's that adorable little girl? I can't wait – "

She stops short when she realizes there's an extra person standing in the family room. Her eyes narrow as she stares at Matt, her hand forming a fist against her hip. "What are _you_ doing here?" she demands to know, none too pleased to see him.

He smirks. "Patrick asked me to baby-sit," he informs her, none too subtle as his eyes rove down the length of her and back. As always, she looks smoking hot, even halfway out of her winter coat. In fact, he muses, allowing his gaze to linger appreciatively on her chest, it probably adds to the effect.

Maxie sets her jaw, drawing his gaze north. "Well, Robin asked _me_ to baby-sit tonight," she says dismissively, "so you can just run along."

"_Me_?" Matt returns. "I'm not the one dressed for clubbing. Why don't _you_ leave?"

Maxie huffs an exasperated sigh, turning her attention to her cousin. "Robin?" she pleads.

"Patrick?" Matt echoes, looking at his brother.

"Geez, maybe you're the ones who need the sitter," Patrick remarks dryly, glancing from Maxie to Matt.

"Come _on_, you guys," Robin sighs, rolling her eyes, "it was just a mix-up. One of you stay, and one of you leave, but it doesn't matter who, okay? We know you both love Emma, and we trust her with you." She sends a pointed stare in Maxie's direction. "_Both_ of you."

Maxie bristles, but doesn't back down. Matt shrugs, folding his arms over his chest.

Patrick joins his wife in the eye-rolling before glancing down at his watch. "Look, we're going to be late if we don't get going," he says, directing his comment to Robin. He wraps his arm around her shoulders. "I don't want to miss having you all to myself for a couple of hours."

Matt glances at Maxie from the corner of his eye, and can practically see her melting. _They're good_, he considers, even more impressed than before with their ability to bring out the ooey-gooey, as if on cue.

"Okay, okay, okay," she mutters good-naturedly, "we'll work this out. You two deserve some time to yourselves, and maybe you can get started on a sibling for my favorite niece?" Before Patrick or Robin can respond to the bold request, Maxie is behind them, practically pushing them out the door.

"You're going to be okay?" Robin manages, pulling on her coat.

"Of course," Maxie assures her. "Emma's sleeping, isn't she? If she isn't, she should be, at this hour!"

Patrick and Robin exchange an amused glance.

"This will be a piece of cake," Maxie continues. "Now go!"

She waves as the two finally depart, huddling together against the bite of the December breeze. She draws the door closed, but doesn't shut it completely. She turns to face Matt again, her joyous expression promptly falling.

"You can leave, too," she tells him tersely, putting her hand on her hip as she leans against the ajar door.

"I don't think so," he rejoins. "Patrick and Robin may be deluded into thinking you're competent, but I'm not. What do you know about taking care of kids?"

"What do _you_?" she shoots back incredulously. "You can barely even get a date with a woman, much less anything else."

He smiles, which only infuriates her more. He likes it when she's fiery, and he suspects she does, too. "That may be," he contends, allowing her insults to roll off his back, "but I _do_ have a pediatrics rotation under my belt."

"Oh, goody!" she exclaims, her entire expression alighting with sarcastic glee as she pushes the door closed and walks towards him. "You must be an _expert_ at changing diapers, then."

"Actually," he corrects her, "that's more in the department of obstetrics…" His voice trails off as she continues walking, straight past him, heading down the hallway. He follows her to Emma's room, where she quietly opens the door and slips inside.

Generally, he doesn't like it when she suddenly stops arguing/flirting with him, but his upset is short-lived as he observes her now. She's calm and quiet as she approaches Emma's crib, reaching down to softly stroke the little girl's dark hair. Emma stirs slightly at the brush of her fingers, but Maxie doesn't coo or cuddle in response. Instead, she continues the gentle caress, her own head tilting indulgently as she checks to make sure the baby isn't tangled up in the sheets or blankets.

Matt can feel his breath catching his chest, his hand closing around the door handle. He continues to watch her, even as she ignores him, because he knows what a rare chance this is, to see her softer and more vulnerable side. Maxie's always been proud of her abrasiveness, and, aside from amusing him, it makes him wonder…

What secrets does she keep?

How badly has she been hurt, to build a wall around her emotions like that?

And what does she see in that little worm Spinelli, to let him in when she shuts the rest of the world out?

Emma awakens and begins to whimper. Maxie carefully picks her up, cradling her in her arms, and suddenly Matt is hit with a vision of his own idea of domestic bliss. He hasn't given much thought to having children before, but Maxie certainly presents an alluring case.

She turns back to him and smiles, gentle and warm and not doing a thing to break his fantasy. She doesn't seem to be offended by him following her or watching her; all the opposite, in fact. His heart gains traction in his chest as she approaches, her expression tranquil and charming.

"You can stay," she concedes softly, throwing him completely off guard as her eyes meet his directly. "On one condition."

"And what's that?" he asks, returning her promising smile with one of his own.

"That you take diaper duty," she replies, pressing Emma against his chest. He sputters as he feels the warm, wet spot gathering against his shirt.

Maxie laughs. "Happy changing!" she teases, patting him on the shoulder as she waltzes out the door.


	3. Kitchen Goddess

Title: Kitchen Goddess

Author: LuxKen27

Universe: Canon

Genre: Comedy, Romance

Rating: T

Word Count: 858

Summary: Maxie Jones is not exactly a kitchen goddess.

_Author's Note:_ Further notes about this piece can be found on my LiveJournal, which is linked in my profile.

**DISCLAIMER: **The _General Hospital_ concept, storyline, and characters are © 2005-2011 Jill Farren Phelps/Robert Guza, Jr./ABC/SoapNet. No money is being made from the creation of this material. No copyright infringement is intended.

.xxxxx.

**III. July 2010**

"There," Maxie breathes, feeling inordinately pleased with herself as she pops the last strawberry into place. It has taken her far longer than she'd anticipated, but the final product is worth the extra effort. She picks up the plate lightly with her fingers, turning it this way and that, trying to decide which is the best angle for presentation. She wants everything to be perfect, because Maxie Jones doesn't cook for just _anyone_ – but when she does, she goes all out.

"Whoa," comes a disbelieving voice from the vicinity of the doorway. "What happened here?"

She turns, giving her brightest smile. "Breakfast!" she chirps in reply, holding out the plate, strawberries on top.

Matt enters his kitchen, dressed in dark blue surgical scrubs over a long-sleeved shirt. He looks around incredulously as he crosses the room, unable to tear his attention away from the havoc she's wreaked in her wake. He eyes the plate for a moment before lifting his gaze to hers. "Toast and fruit?" he says skeptically, taking the plate. "You tore my kitchen apart for _toast and fruit_? What did you do, bake the bread yourself?"

Maxie glances around. It does, she admits, look like a hurricane has swirled through – cabinet doors ajar, packages torn open, utensils scattered about. Still, the least he can muster would be a little gratitude; he's not exactly Mr. Mary Sunshine first thing in the morning, either.

She narrows her eyes as she returns his stare, reaching back on the counter for the knife she'd been cutting fruit with. "Are you _completely_ sure you want to continue this line of questioning?" she inquires, holding the blade aloft and allowing it to glitter in the overhead light.

Matt's gaze moves from the tip of the blade to her face; after a long moment, he shrugs his shoulders and picks up a piece of the toast, taking a bite. "What are you going to do, cut me?" he challenges, his eyes dancing with mirth.

"Don't tempt me," she deadpans, settling her free hand on her hip.

He smiles at her. "You're cute when you're angry, you know that?"

She glowers at him, slamming the knife back on the counter. "I'm not angry," she insists, "I'm upset! At least the last man I made breakfast for had the decency not to insult me."

His teasing smile fades. "So I'm not the first, eh?" he muses, managing to appear disappointed, if unsurprised.

_You've never been a first for me_, she wants to say, but she bites the words back. She averts her eyes. It's not true, after all – he's the first regular guy who's held her attention for more than two seconds, even if it's mostly been via irritation. There's something irresistible about him, the way he can challenge her without moving in a whirlwind of danger and destruction himself. He's not a cop, or a killer, or even member of the mob – an increasingly rare combo for Port Charles these days.

He's the first guy who might stick around and put her first in his life, if given the chance. Is she ready for that?

"Look, Maxie," he says, exhaling softly as he touches her shoulder, "I'm sorry. All of this" – he gestures, careful not to tip the food-laden plate – "is new for me, too."

Maxie composes herself as she glances up, gazing at him shrewdly. "I find that hard to believe," she scoffs. "Aren't you related to Patrick Drake? To _Noah Drake_, even? And you've never wowed a woman so much that she's compelled to stay over and cook for you?"

Matt's eyes sparkle. "Is that what this means?" he asks, unable to suppress his sly, self-satisfied smile. "I rocked your world last night?"

She flushes, but tries valiantly to hide it, bracing her hands on her hips once more. "Just answer the question."

His expression turns thoughtful as he gazes at her, his eyes steady on hers, the hand at her shoulder rising to touch her cheek. "No," he says simply, and Maxie hates the way her heart skips a beat. He brushes a lock of blonde hair behind her ear and smiles once more. "No woman has ever been moved so much that she destroyed my kitchen the next morning."

Maxie rolls her eyes, pushing away from him. "You can never have a serious moment, can you?" she flares, irritated.

He touches her again, his hand warm and firm on her elbow as he draws her back. She turns, just in time to feel his lips press to hers, urgent and fervent and promising so much more. "You're a keeper, Maxie Jones," he says softly as they break apart. "How's that for serious?"

Her heart pumps furiously. "But you don't even know me," she replies, knowing she speaks in both truth and lies.

He kisses her again, and this time, she tastes strawberries on his lips. "But I'd like to," he replies. He pauses for a moment, before continuing. "Is that a problem for you?"

She considers his words before meeting his gaze once more. "No," she finally responds, smiling at last. "Just don't ever expect breakfast from me again."


End file.
